


Peachy Queen

by Geist



Category: Super Mario Bros. (Video Games)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Collar, Cunnilingus, F/F, Face Sitting, Fingering, Fisting, Footjob, Hair Pulling, Kissing, Lesbian, Magical Gender Confirmation, Marriage, Mild Blood, Oral Sex, Piercing, Strap-On, Stripping, Tail Sex, Temperature Play, Transformation, Transgender, Vaginal Fingering, Yuri, collaring, horn play, mtf, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:13:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25766521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geist/pseuds/Geist
Summary: A certain magic crown shakes up Peach and Bowser’s whole weird relationship, and now Peach might actually be able to do something with this big disaster of a turtle-dragon.
Relationships: Bowsette/Peach-hime | Peach Toadstool
Comments: 8
Kudos: 91





	Peachy Queen

**Author's Note:**

> All characters are portrayed as 18+

Sitting in an iron cage in some gloomy, stone-walled dungeon wasn't Peach's idea of a good time. She supposed it could be, if certain other elements were introduced, but just whiling away the hours waiting for the boys to rescue her tended to pall. Still, it kept them entertained, and added a certain element of intrigue to ruling a kingdom of perfectly contented mushroom people. Sometimes Bowser would come down and taunt her, and she could play the damsel in distress ("Help! Oh, you wicked brute! Just wait until Mario gets here!") with a sarcasm that her captor never quite cottoned to.

It did get old, though. Sometimes she was tempted to do something wild, throw the whole performance off script. Sometimes she wanted to take the leading role.

As it turned out, something she'd done did throw everything off script. Something she hadn't quite expected would make such an impact. Something she'd thought of as nothing more than a trivial little experiment in enchantment.

The dungeon door clanged open, and heavy footsteps stomped over the stone flags.

"Gwahahahaha!" someone roared: crude, mocking laughter.

Peach sighed, and rose. Bowser, right on time. But wasn't his laugh a little high pitched today? She turned, and for a moment, was speechless.

There was a woman on the other side of the bars. A tall woman. A powerfully built woman, with dark skin, a mane of red hair and two huge horns sprouting from her skull. Her teeth, when she laughed again, were sharp. Her eyes were a fierce and fiery crimson. She wore a black dress, and, perched incongruously atop her head, a little gold and pink crown. A crown Peach recognised. She'd enchanted it herself.

"That's-" she said.

"Like it?" Bowser said, and it was definitely Bowser; even in his current body he had that guttural growl in his voice. "My troops found it in one of your outposts. Once again another treasure of the Mushroom Kingdom falls to the great and mighty King Bowser!"

"That thing?" Peach hid a giggle behind her hand. "Sure, a great treasure of the Mushroom Kingdom, oh woe is me."

Surely he had to pick up on that. But he merely erupted with another guffaw. "With the power of this uh, what do you call it?"

"Super Crown."

"With the power of this Super Crown, this time the pesky plumbers will be no match for me! I will reign victorious!"

"Right. Just one thing?"

"Huh?"

"Where'd you get the dress?"

Bowser, to Peach's great delight, blushed, distinct red patches appearing under his brown cheeks. He rubbed the back of his head.

"Well, uh, it appeared when I put it on."

"Nope, doesn't work like that. It just makes you taller if you're humanoid and feminine, or feminine and humanoid if you're not. Works on clothes, too, but only if you're already wearing them. And you don't. So, where did you get the dress?"

Bowser mumbled.

"Sorry?"

"I had it made, okay? So what? I felt exposed! This weak, fleshy body, all...soft. And round. And smooth."

"Hmm." Peach considered Bowser for a while. Then a longer while.

"Uh..." said Bowser.

"Shut up, I'm thinking."

And Peach came to a decision. "Yeah," she said. "I can work with this."

She reached into a hidden pocket in her dress, pulled out a fire flower, absorbed its power in a blaze of heat and set a sputtering, actinic blue flame flaring from her hand. It was the work of a moment to cut through the lock on the cage.

"Hey!" Bowser yelped, reeling back. "You're not supposed to-!"

He reached for the crown, and Peach pointed a burning finger at him. "Don't touch that."

Bowser, his eyes wide, let his arms fall to his sides.

"How long have we been doing all this, Bowser?" Peach asked. "Don't you get bored of it? Sure, we've got the go-karts and the tennis and all that, but if you weren't such a jerk the whole time we could have so much more fun."

"Eh? I'm not supposed to have fun. I'm a conqueror. A ravager. One day you'll see my strength and swoon in my arms and at last we'll be King and Queen."

"Oh yeah, that." Peach rolled her eyes. "It's not as if I don't like you, you know. Well, apart from the kidnapping. You really never figured out why I wasn't interested? Again, kidnapping aside."

"Come on, that's obvious!" Bowser stomped his foot, lashed his tail. A trickle of dust fell from the ceiling. "The damned-!"

"Nope. Guess again."

"Okay, then it was the kidnapping." He was more subdued this time.

"Not even that. Let me spell it out for you. I'm. Not. Into. Guys."

"Ridiculous! You kiss...him all the time!"

"Mario and I are friends. I kiss my friends."

Once again, Bowser mumbled something.

"Speak up."

"I said, you never kissed me."

"The kidnapping? Not something friends usually do."

"Oh. Right."

They lapsed into silence for a bit.

"So when you say you're not into guys..." Bowser began, a little hopefully.

Peach smiled. "Things are a little different, aren't they? That crown...I bet you feel a lot more comfortable in this body, don't you? Like the old one didn't quite fit. Like something was missing your whole life and you never really could tell what."

"How did you-?"

"I don't think you ever were a guy, Bowser."

And, having figured these things out, Peach felt comfortable thinking of him as a her.

Bowser stood silent for a moment, trembling. She wiped at her eyes, quickly, guiltily.

"Yeah, well, you're still my prisoner," she growled.

"Mmm, no." Peach sauntered towards the dungeon door. "I'm your guest. Let's see if we can make some things work. Find me a room, pull back your troops and stand down, or I promise you you'll never get another chance."

She spun on her heel. "Oh!" she added, strolling back to Bowser. "I guess you'll need a new name. Let's see."

Standing on tiptoes, she hooked her arms round Bowser's neck, pulled her down and kissed her on the cheek. Her entire face erupted in an instant, cherry-red flush.

"How do you like Bowsette?"

Peach let her go, turned again, and headed for the door, leaving the newly minted, utterly flummoxed Bowsette to catch up with her.

Bowsette did find Peach a room: a snug little suite a floor down from the royal chamber. Not quite getting the concept of a guest, she did station a guard at the door, but Peach didn't mind.

Her rooms contained a dusty old bureau, which provided pen, ink and paper. She sat, and scribed a letter:

Dear Mario,

Don't worry about rescuing me for now. I think I've got this one.

Love, P.

She signed it with a cipher that she'd arranged with her would-be saviour ages back, to prove it was her. Then she folded it, sealed it with the wax from a nearby candle, and went to the door. She opened it, and shoved the letter into the hands of the startled Koopa 'guarding' her.

"Mail this for me, would you?" she said, sweetly.

"I'm s'pose ta-"

"Thanks." She shut the door again, crossed to the bed and threw herself into it, grinning up at the four-poster canopy. Things were getting interesting. Finally.

\---

For three weeks, Peach stayed in Bowsette's fortress. She ate with her, talked with her. She watched Bowsette's people go from confusion that the boss was a woman now, and hanging out with that other woman who was usually their prisoner, to bemusement, to acceptance.

She found herself warming to Bowsette. It wasn't as though she'd hated her before; they'd had their playful rivalries. Their antagonism was formulaic. She'd almost liked her, sometimes. Now, she admired her strength, and her will, and her surprising compassion for the misfits who'd flocked to her banner. Of course, if Peach had pressed her on that last part she'd have instantly denied it.

She was cute, too, in her new body. A little clumsy and gangly, perhaps, as she got used to a different centre of gravity, a more gracile frame. She'd lift her dress to avoid tripping over it when she walked, and lowered herself carefully into chairs that would have splintered under her before. Peach caught herself smiling whenever she watched these moments.

Bowsette was as obsessed with Peach as ever, naturally. But now Peach knew where the levers were. She could steer her, channel her down healthier courses. And bit by bit, obsession for an abstraction became an interest in the actuality. Peach could have actual conversations with her that weren't all bluster and role-playing.

Things, then, were rolling along quite nicely. Nicely enough that Peach decided, one day, that she could give them a little push.

"Come with me," she said, catching Bowsette one morning, hooking her arm around her elbow. In her other hand, she carried a big, heavy basket.

"Huh?" Bowsette grunted. "Where're we going?"

"For a walk."

"No. I've got stuff to do." She tried to pull away, but Peach held her firm, even against her superior strength.

"You'll enjoy it when we're out."

Bowsette grumbled, but allowed herself to be led out through the castle gates, away through the unattractive ravine in which it was sited, up into higher, fresher, greener climes. They were nicely flushed and breathless by the time they reached a grassy, flower-strewn meadow. There, Peach revealed that she'd stashed tennis rackets in her basket, and they got even sweatier whacking a ball back and forth across an imaginary court.

Panting, heart pounding, Peach called time. Bowsette looked like she was ready for more; she was growing into her body, enjoying the dexterity and grace that her old form had lacked. She acquiesced, though, and sat on the blanket Peach spread from the basket.

The food Peach had brought for their picnic was delicious, she'd made sure of it. Bowsette had lost none of her previous appetites, and rapidly ate herself into a slow, sleepy stupor. She leaned back, her tail curled around her legs, burped and smiled.

"Not bad," she murmured.

"Say ahh," Peach said, holding out a little jam-filled pastry to her.

Bowsette, before she realised what she was doing, opened up. Peach popped the treat into her mouth, enjoying the look of mild surprise on her face that she'd just allowed herself to be fed. Bowsette chewed, swallowed. Once she was done, Peach leaned over, pressed her lips to Bowsette's and slipped her tongue between them, tasting their sweetness.

"Mmm!?" Bowsette went rigid for a second, then relaxed with a soft moan, letting Peach entwine their tongues. She ran her hands up Bowsette's muscular arms, shuffled in closer, enveloped her in a hug. Her kiss turned ever more hungry as she pushed Bowsette back, taking the lead, making her swish her tail behind herself to keep her balance.

They parted, with Peach taking one last lick at Bowsette's lips. She smiled, and wiped a dribble of her saliva off them with her thumb.

"Shall we be getting back?" she said. "We don't want to be late for dinner."

Mutely, Bowsette nodded, and helped to clear up their picnic.

\---

A few evenings later, Peach shared a couch with Bowsette in the parlour. She'd had a few Koopas go round and chase out all the dust and ancient cobwebs, put some ornaments here and there. Now, with a small fire crackling in the grate, the place looked almost presentable. She'd have preferred a bit more pink, but there was plenty of time to work on that.

She and Bowsette sat with their legs curled companionably around one another, idling away a couple of hours before bed. Bowsette watched the fire, hypnotised by its flickering, and Peach wondered how long it had been since she'd last bothered with one. Lava pits and flaming braziers had probably given her all the heat she needed, before.

Idly, Peach paged through a book, letting the words slowly seep into her, flicking over a corner every minute or so. Things were comfortable. A bit too much so. An idea occurred.

She picked up a cushion, dropped it on the floor.

"Hey," she said. "Go sit down there."

Bowsette raised her head. "What? Why?"

"Give it a try," Peach said, with the smile of ineffable radiance that always made Bowsette blush slightly. "You might like it."

Her sigh was exasperated, but Bowsette obediently settled herself on the cushion at Peach's feet, resting against her legs.

"Good girl," Peach said, and that made Bowsette mutter and look away.

Peach left her like that for a few minutes more, until Bowsette complained:

"Hey, how long-"

"Shhh," Peach hushed, putting a finger to her lips. She flipped over another page.

Once she'd read that, she transferred the book to one hand, thumb holding the spine open, and with the other reached out, resting her palm on Bowsette's head, right between her horns. Bowsette made an unidentifiable little noise, and shifted uncomfortably, but let Peach's hand remain.

Another minute, and Peach began to move her fingers. She crooked her knuckles, working her fingertips through Bowsette's thick red hair, down to her scalp. Slowly scratching, she heard Bowsette's breath catch, heard a whispery whimper in each exhalation. She rubbed a bit harder, twining Bowsette's locks between her fingers, and listened to the low, satisfied rumble that rose up.

Moving over, she curled her hand around one of Bowsette's horns, subtly pulling her head closer to her legs, then slid down to the base and began scritching there, running her fingernail in circles around it. Here she hit the jackpot. Bowsette let out a 'mmmm!' that was very definitely a suppressed groan. Peach hid her grin with her book, kept massaging that sweet spot, and listened to her pet turtle-dragon purr.

They finished the evening with Bowsette in bliss, her head resting against Peach's knees, lost in the slow, repetitive movements of Peach's fingers. At last, when the fire was burning low, Peach relented. She put aside her book, gently pushed Bowsette out of the way, and stood. She held out her hand, helped Bowsette to her feet.

"Let's go to bed," she suggested.

"Uh, okay."

Still holding hands, they wound their way through the corridors. Bowsette tried to pull away when they reached the point where Peach would have turned off towards her room, clearly expecting Peach to do the same, but Peach held fast, and carried on until they were outside the royal bedchambers.

Inside, Peach helped herself to Bowsette's remarkably well-stocked wardrobe, changing into a long, modest nightgown behind a privacy screen. When she came back out, Bowsette was similarly dressed, though her black gown was a little diaphanous in places, and short enough to show off a great deal of thigh and calf. She'd painted her toenails, Peach noticed, glossy black on their sharp points, to match her fingernails.

They clambered into bed together, facing one another, pulled the covers up. Peach snuggled up to her, gave her a chaste kiss on the lips.

"Goodnight, Bowsette," she said, smiling.

"Goodnight, I guess," Bowsette returned, uncertainty etched into her expression. "Um. Peach."

Peach wondered if she expected more. She was half inclined to give it to her. For that night, though, they slept.

\---

They shared a bed from that night on, becoming more and more comfortable with one another. Some mornings they'd awaken wrapped in one another's arms. Some nights they'd fall asleep kissing. Under the covers, Peach would explore Bowsette's body: stomach and sides at first, then, more boldly, thighs and back and butt. She allowed Bowsette to do the same. One night, she'd felt inquisitive fingers brush across her nipple, teasing it under the silkiness of her nightgown. Bowsette had hastily drawn away. A few moments later Peach did exactly the same, in that same sly, plausibly deniable way. The whimper Bowsette made had kept Peach up all night, thinking of ways she could make her whine like that again.

The next night she put her ideas into practice. Their bedtime kiss was a ferocious one, full of groping and stroking, nipping with teeth and dabbing with tongues. Sweat broke out across Peach's body. She ran her fingers through Bowsette's hair over and again, tousling it into a straggly mess.

Without thinking about it, her hand went to Bowsette's crotch. She insinuated her fingers between her legs, wrapped the fabric of her nightgown over her cleft. Bowsette squealed.

"Oh, you like that?" Peach taunted. She worked her fingers back and forth, parting her lips. Bowsette soaked through her gown in an instant.

"Wow, you're really dripping. It's like you've been weeks without getting off."

"I didn't kn-" Bowsette spluttered. "I wasn't sure...so what! I don't have to!"

"That's right, sweetheart," Peach said, giving her another soothing kiss. "You don't. You've got me for that."

She whisked up Bowsette's gown, baring a dark, luscious pussy, richly crowned with a coat of red pubic hair. Curling her hand over it, rubbing her way in, Peach felt Bowsette's incredible heat directly. Thrilled by how wet and pliant her lover was, she wasted no time in teaching her the pleasures of penetration.

Her index and middle fingers slid with perfect ease into Bowsette's cunt, right up to the knuckle. She hooked them, probing into the place that always made her scream, and, oh yes, it worked on Bowsette too.

"Peach!" Bowsette cried. She clung to Peach's arm, quivering against her. Powerful inner muscles rippled over Peach's fingers, conveying with them a fresh surge of heat and moisture.

"That's it," Peach murmured. She began to thrust, stroking the back of Bowsette's walls, pressing up hard enough that Bowsette grit her teeth and groaned, tossing back her head.

"Nice, isn't it."

"Mmmm!" Bowsette agreed, nodding feverishly.

Bowsette's clit was a fat, juicy thing: an irresistible target. After Peach brought her thumb up to it and began to slide its hood back and forth across it, she made no further attempt to communicate with Bowsette. It would have been pointless. She was insensible. A drooling, moaning mess, completely suborned to her need. Peach literally held her in the palm of one hand.

She revelled in the power she had over this powerful creature. Peach brought Bowsette to the edge and held her there as long as she could, sallying and retreating, until Bowsette was inarticulately begging to be let go. Peach, with perfect grace, allowed it.

When Bowsette had come out of her twitching, screaming reverie, Peach offered her her sticky fingers. Bowsette sucked them clean without a word of complaint, and looked at her with a question in her gaze: Now what? Peach answered.

"It's only fair that you do the same for me," she said. She took Bowsette's hand, guided it to her pussy. "Just put your fingers - there we go. Mind your claws. Ohh, that's good already. You're a natural."

They went to sleep very late that night. When they did, Bowsette was well on her way towards knowing how to give Peach everything she wanted.

\---

Another evening in the sitting room. Peach had gotten the place much more to her liking, now. Pink silk hangings draped from the ceiling to the walls, obscuring some of the more brutal stonework, and flowers in elegant vases added life and freshness to the room.

She'd gotten Bowsette very used to sitting at her feet. Sometimes, like a favoured pet, she was allowed up onto the couch to cuddle, but most evenings she spent curled on a cushion, nestled up against Peach's legs. As she did this evening. She probably expected to stay that way until bedtime. Peach, though, intended to push her submission a little further tonight.

"Hey, sweetie?" she said, looking up from her book and smiling down at her.

"Yeah?" Bowsette responded, wariness in her voice. Peach had gotten very good at charming her into obeying, and knew she still didn't entirely trust these strange new impulses.

"Can you go stand over there for a moment?"

"Why should I do that?" Bowsette grumbled. It was all about wearing away that resistance. Each time she obeyed, it got a little easier.

"No reason. For me?"

Bowsette growled, but got to her feet and stalked over to the rug in the middle of the room, in front of the fire.

"Here?" she asked, arms crossed, silhouetted by the flames.

"That's it. Now, would you take your clothes off for me?"

"What."

"Take your clothes off. You're so pretty, and I never get to see you properly."

That adorable blush spread across Bowsette's cheeks. "You - you're a pervert," she muttered. "Never thought Princess Peach would be so..."

She was already reaching behind herself, though, tugging on the fastenings that held her shoulderless dress in place. Peach watched it slither down her body, baring her heavy tits, constrained for now, by a lacy black strapless bra. Next her stomach, ridged with rippling abs, and her loins, her matching black lace panties. She was bare to mid-thigh, where those powerful leg muscles were obscured and softened by a pair of stockings.

"Lovely," Peach said. "Are you going to show me a little more?"

"Like this?" Bowsette asked. She was getting into it now, and held one arm across her chest as she reached behind herself, unhooking her bra. It fell away, and she kept herself covered as she peeled it off from behind her arm.

"Go on," cajoled Peach, sitting up, leaning forward. "Let me see those gorgeous breasts."

Bowsette twitched her arm, hesitating for a moment, then flung it to her side. "There. Happy?"

"Oh, very." Bowsette's tits, even as fat as they were, were firm and rounded, buoyed up by the impressive pectorals beneath. Big brown nipples surrounded by sweet, dark swells of areolae pointed up and out at their tips, looking eminently suckable.

"Turn around?" Peach suggested, and Bowsette, squirming under her gaze, did so. Her tail lashed behind her, spiked tip flicking too and fro. A strap ran across its base, holding her panties in place; behind it, the lace clung to her taut arse cheeks.

"Suppose you want me to take these off too," said Bowsette, glancing over her shoulder. Her thumbs were already under the waistband.

"Yes please."

Down they went, rolled up along Bowsette's thighs, the gusset stretching between her legs. She bent over, raising her tail enough that Peach could just see a tantalising shadow between her thighs, then she let her panties drop to her ankles, straightened up, stepped out of them. When she turned back round, she'd covered herself again: an arm across her breasts, a hand splayed out in front of her crotch.

"What now, Princess?" she asked, a challenge in her voice.

"Stockings," was Peach's laconic answer.

So Bowsette exposed herself entirely. She tugged her stockings down her legs, denuding those delicious, sculpted calves. Squatting, she tried to hide as much of herself from Peach as possible but only succeeded in revealing more. She peeled her stockings off her feet and bounced back up, breathing heavily, defiance in her gaze.

Peach watched her for a long time, until she flushed again and squirmed under her piercing sapphire gaze.

"Beautiful," she pronounced.

"'M not," Bowsette rumbled, looking down and away.

"You are. You really are. Now, kneel and stay there for a while."

"Kneel? No way! I'm King - Queen of the Koopas!"

"Then you're powerful enough to do as I say, aren't you?"

"That - makes absolutely no sense at all."

"Please?"

The magic word, said with irresistible sweetness and huge, puppy-dog eyes. Bowsette snarled, and dropped to her knees, folding her thighs along her calves, holding her hands demurely in her lap.

"I'm not doing this again!"

"You're a very good girl." Peach could see the way Bowsette's breathing hitched when she said that.

She went back to her book, reading ostentatiously, the crackle of flames and the flick of the pages the only sound in the room.

"Hey," Bowsette said, when enough time had passed for it to be awkward. Peach just shushed her, and kept reading.

The tension built until it was unbearable. With a sigh, Peach put her book aside, stood, and lifted her skirt, tucked it up. She shifted her panties to the side, exposing a pussy made glossy with arousal. Bowsette's eyes bulged.

"Prince - mmph!"

In three quick strides Peach had crossed the room to her, grabbed her horns, shoved her face into her crotch. A despairing moan came from down below, then Peach shuddered as a hot wet tongue went slithering over her slit.

"Ohh, fuck," she murmured, feathering the last word, wanting to preserve her rep as the sweet princess.

"Mmm?" Bowsette queried.

"Never you mind. Just keep licking."

All of Bowsette's reservations melted away in the heat rising from Peach's pussy. Her licks were long, sloppy things, accompanied by a great deal of slobbering, of sucking and kissing at lips and clit. Each flick of her tongue drove a scream from Peach. As her legs went limp, her grip tightened on Bowsette's horns, and she relied on her turtle-dragon's strength to keep herself upright.

She pulled away from Bowsette, and glanced down at her startled, juice-soaked, saliva-flecked face.

"Huh?" she began, "What's the prob-"

Peach ignored her and stepped to the side, letting go of one horn and grabbing the other with both hands. She thrust out her hips and began to grind on it, moaning. The smooth, keratinous surface glided over her cunt, pressing between her lips, her clit mashed against the unyielding bulk.

"What are you-!" Bowsette yelped, trying to pull away, then Peach's wetness began to drool into her hair, slicking it down to her scalp. "Ugh! Gross!"

Beyond that first resistance, she offered no more, letting Peach rub herself into a frenzy against her horn. Her lust rose in her, her pleasure filled her. She bucked, screamed, splattering slick across the top of Bowsette's head, humping her horn, letting her intolerable need for release build until, with another yowl, she brought herself off, another gush of juices soaking Bowsette's hair.

"Are you done?" said Bowsette, trying to shake some of the moisture off.

But their roles had solidified now, and all the snarky remarks in the world couldn’t change that. Peach kicked off a shoe, planted her foot against Bowsette's chest and pushed. She sent her sprawling. Bowsette caught herself on her forearms and glared up at Peach.

"What are-"

"Be quiet," Peach demanded, "and spread. You'll enjoy this."

Bowsette did as she was told, and Peach raised her socked foot, brought it down gently on Bowsette's pussy. She ground her heel into her muff, and Bowsette instantly went rigid, arching back, horns digging into the rug. Her crown teetered dangerously on her head, nearly dislodging itself from the pins holding it to her hair, but it remained, and she remained.

Wetness soaked through Peach's sock, warm and musky, and she kept stroking, rolling her sole along the length of Bowsette's mound. She pointed her big toe, dipped it into her hole, wriggled it until Bowsette was groaning. With a fresh cargo of juice, she tugged it free, brought it up to Bowsette's straining clit, rested it there, twitching it every few seconds. Bowsette thrashed, howling, bucking her hips up. Peach pushed harder, forcing her back down, intensifying the pressure on her clit, rubbing, rubbing. There was a strange serenity in her as she watched Bowsette screw up her eyes, watched her tongue loll, her mouth drool.

Bowsette's scream rattled the walls. She raised herself on quivering thighs and tense abs, pussy up-thrust and gushing, spurting her squirt across the carpet. She flopped back down with a thump, limp as a wrung out rag.

Peach was down with her in an instant, supporting her, sitting her up, kissing her.

"Good girl, good girl," she repeated. "You did so well, you're so precious. I love you."

"Love...you too," Bowsette said, thickly.

They stared at each other. They'd said it. There was no unsaying it.

\---

Peach hadn't been back to the dungeons since she'd first seen Bowsette in her crown. Now, she treated them like her own.

Bowsette was naked, Peach was in her panties and nothing else. In the cell she'd selected, a pair of leather cuffs dangled by a chain hooked to the ceiling. Bowsette stood beneath them, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

"Put them on," Peach commanded.

A moment's hesitation. Then Bowsette reached up, slipped her wrist through a loop, pulled it tight and clicked the lock shut. With some difficulty, she repeated the trick, leaving her with her arms locked over her head, helpless and vulnerable. The cuffs weren't quite high enough to keep her fully on her tiptoes, but she did have to raise her heels a little if she didn't want to strain her arms.

"Lovely," Peach said. "And so obedient, too."

"I'll play your weird little games," Bowsette said. "But that doesn't mean I'm actually obeying you, okay? I can stop this when I want"

"Of course you can," said Peach. Then, more seriously. "You actually can. You remember your safe word, right?"

Bowsette rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I remember it. Don't need it. What can you do to me?"

"Well, this."

In one hand, Peach held a fire flower. In the other, an ice flower. She held them up, drew the power out of them. They vanished in a flash of brilliant red and blue light, and when they were gone, Peach's left hand crackled with radiant flame, while her right was enveloped in a heat-sucking aura that made the air around it sparkle with scintillating frozen motes.

"Pssh," Bowsette snorted. "Fire? I breathe fire. And I can stand a little cold."

"We'll see."

Peach skipped behind Bowsette. She dialled the frigidity in her hand down to a mere coolness. Wrapping her arm around Bowsette, she laid her palm across her stomach. Bowsette flinched at her touch, her abs contracting, and Peach traced them up and down, bumping over their ridges.

"This is your life before we started this thing," Peach intoned, with the air of a storyteller. With each circuit she made of Bowsette's belly, she ratcheted up the chill a notch. "All cold..."

Colder.

"...and empty..."

Colder.

"...no friends..."

"H-hey, I had f-f-friends!"

Bowsette's teeth were chattering. Peach's hand was the temperature of ice. She dipped the tip of her index finger into Bowsette's navel, listened to her squeak. Colder. Any more and she'd risk freezer-burning Bowsette's skin. Bowsette gasped.

"...and no love."

"I h-h-had-!" Bowsette fell silent. Peach knew what she was thinking. Familial love, yes. A potent but lonely spark. Admiration, respect, sometimes fear from everyone else.

Peach drove home her point, dragging her hand back round Bowsette's waist, resting it on her butt. She left behind a frost-rimed hand print, and admiring the effect, laid one down on the other cheek. Bowsette growled and flicked her tail, but a quick, frozen grab at that most reptilian part of her soon put a stop to that.

Pressing in close, Peach ran her hand up Bowsette's side, and she began to shiver, uncontrollably. Whining, she went up onto her tiptoes in a futile attempt to escape Peach's grasp. The chain she was hanging from clinked, the leather creaked as exhaustion took her and she fell back down. Peach carried on up, inexorably, until she reached Bowsette's armpit. She prodded her fingers into it, freezing the hair there into brittle little icicles, then sidled down to Bowsette's chest.

"Nnnnn!" Bowsette despaired, the words freezing inside her.

Peach cupped one of her tits, draining the warmth from it, letting frost creep fern-like out from her fingers. She flicked Bowsette's nipple and smiled as it turned rock solid, protectively drawing itself inward.

"You're all fire and fury," Peach said, letting go of Bowsette's boob, trailing her hand up to the centre of her chest. "But you had such a cold heart."

And she rested her fingers there for a moment, feeling the agitated beats below them. Abruptly, she pulled away, and Bowsette sighed in relief. Peach's left hand took the right's place.

Now Bowsette sighed in bliss, as Peach turned up the heat to a level that would have scalded anyone else. Even with the fire flower's protection, the flames licking up her arm felt uncomfortably warm. But Bowsette moaned and wriggled, bouncing on her toes, trying to press closer to a heat source that was, in fact, right up against her.

"Isn't that much nicer?" Peach asked. "Love warms you all the way through. Wouldn't you like to feel this way all the time?"

"Hmmph, either way. I was fine before. Doesn't matter to me."

"Really?" Peach pulled away her fiery hand, brought the icy one back to within an inch of Bowsette's skin.

"Okay fine! Love is great! I'll make daisy chains and frolic in meadows and sing tra-la-la-la with you and the plumbers. Happy?"

"Very," said Peach. She replaced her left hand on Bowsette's chest, stroked her way down her boobs, melting away the frost in a hiss of steam. Bowsette practically purred.

"And..." Bowsette added, her voice becoming slow and sleepy as she basked. "I guess I love you, don't I?"

"I guess you do," said Peach, leaning in to smooch Bowsette's back.

Dismissing the ice in her right hand, Peach let the fire spread through her body, replacing it. She kept the left on Bowsette's tits, kneading and tugging at them, and snaked her freshly ignited fingers down to Bowsette's pussy, sliding between her lips. Bowsette's juices steamed away the instant they made contact with Peach's burning skin, but there was always more of them, and she stayed as slick as melted ice when Peach drove her fingers into her.

Peach frigged Bowsette for a while, pumping her hand with ever greater vigour, driving Bowsette into a whimpering delirium. While she did, she grabbed Bowsette's tail, turned the tip up towards her own twat and shoved it into herself. Its scaly surface was beautifully rough-smooth inside her, and its tapered shape stretched her until she was groaning. She went down until Bowsette's first tail-spike prevented her from going any further, angled it so that it rubbed up next to her clit, then returned her hand to Bowsette’s chest.

Bowsette, even through her haze, figured out what Peach wanted from her, and began to wriggle her tail tip, undulating it from side to side, reaming Peach's walls ever wider. Peach, grunting, grit her teeth and focussed on Bowsette's pleasure. She abruptly added two fingers to the one's already inside her, grinning fiercely at Bowsette's yelp. Bowsette's pussy was fresh and muscular, and clung tightly to Peach's hand, but she was very elastic. With twists of her fingers, powerful thrusts, Peach worked away at it, forcing it to loosen. She felt hot liquid spatter onto her other hand. Bowsette was utterly broken by her treatment, drooling onto her own tits.

When she could spread her fingers inside Bowsette, jamming her fingertips into her walls from every angle, Peach judged her to be ready. She pulled out in a spray of juices, formed her thumb and fingers into an arrowhead, and thrust back inside. Bowsette howled, her tail thrashed, a spear of pleasure punched its way up through Peach's womb and stomach. Much as, with one stroke, she shoved her whole hand into Bowsette's perfectly stretched cunt.

Bowsette babbled helplessly, gasps and moans interspersed with little shrieks and whimpers. She danced from foot to foot, the chain clanking and rattling above her. Her tail moved ceaselessly, and every flick of it stirred up fresh bliss in Peach. She took her desire, used it to fuel the fire flower's magic, made her hand erupt with a glow that shone out through Bowsette's skin. Up to her wrist in volcanic pussy, Peach curled her hand into a fist and drove it deep.

Bowsette screamed until her scream became a roar, until Peach's ears hurt and she just had to join in, both of them howling like primal things. All there was was heat and ache and tail and musk. They rocked into one another, fist pumping, juices slopping, steam and scent and finally, gloriously, oblivion.

When Peach came to, she was clinging to Bowsette's back, teeth latched onto her skin, a series of bite marks peppering the area around this latest one. She let go, slid Bowsette's tail out of her and stepped round to see her handiwork.

Bowsette was a mess. She hung limp from her cuffs, arms taking all the strain, her legs useless, splayed, limp things beneath her. Her pussy gaped, dripping, obscenely red, her clit swollen and throbbing. Her mouth, likewise, was wide open, tongue out, drool dribbling from the corner. Her eyes were rolled up, and little twitches scurried across her face as she struggled to process her various sensations.

"C'mon," Peach said, reaching up to spring the quick releases on the cuffs. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"Loooove," Bowsette moaned.

"That's right."

\---

"You fisted my brains out through my twat the other week, you think a little needle is going to bother me?"

"It will only hurt a little, darling, but I'm just making sure. This is a pretty big step." Peach checked over her implements as she spoke, making sure everything was prepared. She pulled a pair of latex gloves from a box of them, snapped them on.

"Feh," Bowsette huffed. She was naked again, while Peach, this time, was fully clothed. There was at least a decent reason for it, this time. "Piercings are badass. This is about the one good idea you've had."

"Alright, if you're happy, I'm happy."

A tray sat, at convenient hand height, on a table to Peach's side. From it, she picked up a pair of tongs, their tip a flattened hole like the eye of a needle, and wrapped in sterile packaging, an actual piercing needle. Deftly, she unwrapped it with one hand.

"Okay, hands behind your back," she said, "and crouch for me a little."

Bowsette obeyed.

"Tongue out."

Opening her mouth, Bowsette produced her long, red, tongue. Peach reached up with the tongs, gripped it, held it firm and brought the needle to bear.

As she punched through the flesh, Peach let her magic well up inside her. She filtered it through the spectrum of love, let it flow out through her and into Bowsette. Love couldn't obviate all the pain, but it helped, and turned some of it pleasurable. Bowsette hissed and stiffened, but stayed still. Peach was able to push through, and the bloody tip of the needle emerged beneath Bowsette's tongue.

Quickly, Peach withdrew it, and fitted a stud in its place. Black, anodised steel. She didn't want Bowsette to lose all of her edge. She pulsed more magic through her fingertips, healing the tissue around it into an instant tunnel, and wiped away a few specks of blood with an antiseptic swab.

"Bleh," Bowsette complained, her voice oddly thick. She curled and twisted her tongue, trying to get used to its new addition. "That tastes foul."

"You won't have to taste the others." Peach dropped the swab into a jar. "And I don't want you getting infected. How is it?"

"Weird. Felt kinda good when you stuck me, though." She grinned, licked her upper lip, dragging the stud across it. "Bet you'll feel good too when I run it over your-"

"Yes, clearly you're okay with it." Peach held up a second needle. "Ready for another?"

Bowsette nodded. Peach took hold of her nipple and slid the needle through. Ruby-bright droplets of blood blossomed either side of the wound, and Bowsette tipped back her head, trembling.

The jewellery Peach had selected for Bowsette's tits were heavy black rings, studded around with silver spikes. She pushed one through Bowsette's new piercing, clicked the captive bead into place, healed and cleansed. She caught Bowsette's eye, got a nod, and with a fresh needle repeated the process with her other nip.

"Huh. Actually pretty cool," Bowsette said, once Peach was done. She took a ring between her fingers, tilting it up so she could get a good look at it.

"Careful," Peach said. "I've healed you, but it'll still be sensitive there."

"Maybe for you. I can - ow!"

"Told you."

Peach gave her another shot of healing mojo, just in case, then moved down to her navel. With increasing confidence, she punched a needle through Bowsette's skin and inserted a curved barbell, tipped with a big black ball that hung right in the centre of Bowsette's belly button.

"That's the easy ones," Peach said. She pulled a low stool over and sat down, face to face with Bowsette's crotch. "Ready for the next lot?"

"Stop asking," Bowsette grumbled. "I already told you I'm fine."

No arguing with that. Peach changed gloves, readied ten fresh needles and swabs. Very carefully, with a gasp from above, she peeled aside one of Bowsette's outer lips, holding it firm between thumb and forefinger. With exacting care, she positioned a needle, and pierced.

That got a reaction. Bowsette squeaked, whimpering, despite the extra surge of love Peach gave her. Her legs trembled for a moment, and Peach was almost minded to stop. But Bowsette didn't use her safe word, and drawing it out would be crueller. Peach slipped in a stud, black and shiny like all the rest, and clicked on its fastening. She cleaned and healed, and discarded the needle.

Another poke later, and both of Bowsette's petals bore studs near their tops, just below her clitoris. But there were eight more to go. Peach got to work: one lip, then the other, Bowsette whining with each one. An obsidian ladder descended either side of her slit until, next to her opening, Peach fastened in the last stud.

With some concern, she looked up. Bowsette was teary-eyed and red-faced, but her expression was less of pain and more of sensory overload. She'd be feeling a heavy endorphin rush, Peach guessed, even with the magic anaesthetising her.

"One more?" Peach asked, and Bowsette nodded with grim determination.

"Do it!"

So Peach very gently lifted Bowsette's clit hood and drove a needle through it. She went through the tenuous membrane like it was barely there. Though she pumped all the magic she could spare into her, Bowsette still screamed: half agony, half orgasmic. As quickly as she could, Peach slotted in her last adornment, a heavy ring, its bottom edge resting against Bowsette's clit, designed to give her a kind of constant low-grade stimulation.

Peach poured out the last of her magic, healing the piercing completely, even eradicating any last lingering sensitivity.

"There," she said, standing, peeling off her gloves. "How does that feel?"

"W-weird," Bowsette admitted. "Like it'll take a while to get used to."

"You were very brave," Peach said, perhaps a little condescendingly, "and now you get your reward."

"What-mmph!"

Bowsette was cut off as Peach kissed her, flinging her arm round her back and dropping her hand to her crotch. Hooking her finger through Bowsette's clit ring, she pulled up her hood and touched her naked button. Bowsette convulsed, thrashing in Peach's grasp, barely able to stand the over-stimulation.

Within thirty seconds, with one fingertip, Peach forced Bowsette through a debilitating shock of an orgasm, leaving her sobbing in pleasure. Sweaty, panting, she clung to Peach for support, her legs treacherous. Peach held her, and smiled over her shoulder. Her love was putty in her hands. The piercings were just one new set of controls in a whole host of options.

\---

It had been months since Peach had escaped Bowsette's cage and begun moulding her to her desires. Months in which she'd bombarded Bowsette with her kindness, affection and love, always with an unflinching will, always with the understanding that she was the one on top. And she was rewarded for her efforts. Bowsette still blustered, grumbled and snarked. But a look from Peach would subdue her into meek silence. If Peach told her to do something, she did it. A few more piercings, in addition to the ones Peach had originally given her, marked her submission; she had a ring in her lip, a stud in her nose, and another thick, heavy ring through the tip of her tail.

Now Bowsette kneeled, in the half-dark of their royal bedchamber, surrounded by a flickering circle of candles, head bowed before the woman who was her goddess.

"I have something I want to give you," Peach said, holding her gift behind her back. "You're..." She choked back a sudden wave of tears. "You're so precious. I never...I never thought I'd end up loving you this much."

"Me neither," said Bowsette. "You've shown me so many things. How to be happy. How to be myself. I love you."

"I want you to be mine forever. So I made you this."

Peach brought her gift out and, hands shaking, bent to drape it loosely around Bowsette's neck.

"This is-" Bowsette said, reaching up to touch it.

"A collar," said Peach. It was thin black steel, with silver studs, matching the various rings piercing Bowsette's body. It hinged at the back, and had a built-in lock at the front.

"And it's a special collar," she continued. "I've enchanted it to copy other enchantments. Any magic affecting you when you close it will keep on affecting you, even if you take off the original enchanted item."

"You mean...I could take off the crown, and I'd stay the way I am? I don't have to worry about it falling off, or getting lost?"

Peach nodded. "That's right. You'll stay you, for as long as you want. But you have to close it. I won't do it for you."

Bowsette's next words were shivery, excited. "I'll be yours? And you'll be...my Mistress?"

"Always."

Without hesitation, Bowsette reached up and closed the collar. The sound of the lock snapping shut was a quiet little tick, but it rang in Peach's ears. With shaking hands, Bowsette took off the Super Crown. She remained exactly herself.

"Thank you, thank you," she whispered, as Peach extended her hand, pulled her to her feet. "Thank you, Mistress."

Her eyes were brimming with tears, and Peach's own vision was blurry. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve, leaned in, kissed Bowsette, claiming her.

"I love you too, my pet. Let's go to bed."

They stepped out of the circle, danced over to their bed, tumbled into the sheets together. There, they spent the night getting to know each other all over again.

\---

The wedding of Princess Peach and Queen Bowsette was the event of a century. A thousand dignitaries, potentates, emissaries and magnates gathered in the courtyard of Bowsette's fortress. Two plumbers, one in red overalls, one in green, sat right up in front.

By her unstinting effort, Peach had made the place bright and glorious. On a stage, beneath a pavilion bedecked with pink and gold ribbons, a Lakitu priest led her and Bowsette through their vows.

A cheer went up when they exchanged rings, and another when they kissed. They kept it going on a little longer than they'd intended. Peach enjoyed the sensation of her tongue in her wife's mouth far too much.

With their vows sealed, Peach and Bowsette seated themselves in side-by-side thrones, where Peach was granted the newly forged crown of the United Mushroom and Koopa Kingdoms, and Bowsette the circlet of Queen Consort. Another cheer resounded across the crowd, as their union put an end to a generation of strife.

Then it was all over bar the banquet, and the celebrations, and the dances, which late into the night until Peach and Bowsette were able to make a respectful exit.

They fell upon one another the instant they were back in their chambers, behind locked, barred doors, outside of which stood two fearsome guards with orders to let absolutely no one inside.

Peach kissed Bowsette like she was starving for her: driving her tongue deep into her mouth, pinning hers, nipping at her lips. Her hands roved over Bowsette's dress, crushing voluminous black lace and silk as she strove for the luscious body beneath. Peach's dress, in the exact same style, was a radiant white, and Bowsette ran her own hands up Peach's bodice, almost encircling her waist with her hands.

"My wife," Bowsette murmured, when they broke for breath. "I can't believe you're my wife. You must have tricked me somehow."

"Good trick, huh?"

"Very."

They clung to one another again, their breathing rising in tandem, and their groping got ever more lascivious. Peach dragged the back of her gloved hand over Bowsette's bodice, then turned it over and squeezed, getting a groan in response as her fingers sank through layers of fabric, the softness beneath tantalisingly close. Bowsette, for her part, was sneakily lifting Peach's skirt, hauling it up one handful of material at a time.

Peach pulled away from her suddenly, jerking her skirt out her grasp, the fabric cascading back down her leg.

"Turn around," she ordered, twirling her finger. "I want you out of that thing."

Bowsette grinned and complied. Peach reached up and untied the laces holding her dress together. They parted, loosened, and the dress fell away from Bowsette's shoulders, slipping down her arms. Undoing the fastenings that kept it tight around her tail, Peach let the rest of it collapse into a black puddle around Bowsette's feet. Bowsette stepped out, resplendent in equally ebony lingerie.

"Now me," Peach said, turning around.

She felt Bowsette's breath hot on her neck, as Bowsette struggled to unlace her with trembling fingers.

"Someone's excited," she said.

Bowsette managed to get her undone. Peach spun around, caught her by surprise, hooked a finger under her collar and pulled her down for another kiss, unashamedly feeling her up this time. One hand went to her tits, another to her arse. Bowsette growled, threw her arm around her, pulled her in and mounted her own exploration, while she curled her tail around their legs to keep them pinned together.

Their need rose until it was intolerable, and when they next pulled apart it was to inelegantly scrabble at their underwear. Off came gloves, garter belts, stockings, bra. The instant Bowsette bared her breasts Peach was in there, moulding them under her hands, suckling at her nipples. She caught a nipple ring between her teeth and pulled it out until Bowsette growled and dared to rake her clawed fingers down her Mistress' back.

"Show me," Peach panted, stepping away. Bowsette knew exactly what she referred to. Teasingly, she lowered her panties, exposing the very top of her pussy, where glinted her clit ring, recently remade with a dark, fiery ruby.

Peach smiled, and peeled away her own panties, exposing her adornment: fine gold set with a glittering sapphire. The rings on their fingers were the public symbol of their devotion. These they'd chosen as a far more intimate sign.

Panties went the way of everything else. Naked save her jewellery, Peach crossed to a chest of drawers, opened them, pulled out a web of straps and a thick, shiny black, double ended dildo. She tossed them at Bowsette.

"Put it on."

While Bowsette figured out the strap-on, slipping one end of the dildo into herself, securing it to her crotch, yanking the straps tight around her arse and thighs, Peach splayed herself across the bed. She spread her legs, bent her knees, rubbed her pussy until it was dripping with her need. A flush rose in her chest, spread across her inner thighs, pink beacons for Bowsette to follow. The bed creaked as her wife climbed in. The mattress dipped as she mounted her.

"Ready for me?" Bowsette asked. Her hand went to Peach's crotch, two fingers wormed their way in. Peach gasped.

"So wet," Bowsette taunted. "Are you that desperate for me to fuck you?"

Peach narrowed her eyes, grabbed Bowsette's collar, dragged her down. "Don't forget who's in charge, my love. Now. Get to work."

Bowsette licked her lips. "Yes, Mistress."

The first stroke of the strap-on was like a bolt of lightning. Peach yowled, writhing under Bowsette, as the thick plastic split her cunt and sent a blast of pleasure through her. Bowsette correctly judged that she was in no mood to take it slow, and launched straight into a powerful fuck that had Peach screaming after the first few strokes. The strap-on hammered into her pussy, accompanied by the slap of Bowsette's hips against hers, rubber rolling across the ridges of her walls, squeezing them down, igniting nerves all the way to her depths.

She kept her hand tight on Bowsette's collar, reminding her that she was allowed this privilege on sufferance. She was here to please her Mistress. Any enjoyment she got out of pinning her pretty, petite love under her powerful body, dominating her physically, was incidental. Though Peach would never admit it, she revelled in the relinquishment of her power. She clasped a hand to Bowsette's arse, digging her fingernails into the muscle, feeling it flex and tighten, and brought her palm down in a ringing slap, urging Bowsette to pound her harder.

Bowsette roared, and threw herself against Peach until the bed was creaking. Her sweat pattered down against Peach's face, and Peach's own mingled with Bowsette's where their stomachs and breasts were pressed together, skin slipping over skin. The heat and pressure in her pussy was incredible; she felt on the verge of bursting. Her desire overwhelmed her, and she threw her legs around Bowsette's, pulling her in as deep as she could go, and the strap-on stayed lodged inside her, shifting a couple of inches as Bowsette strained against her grasp.

Bowsette was shaking atop her, and Peach's own sensorium was coming unstuck. She anchored herself in her wife's presence and ducked down to suckle at her breast, trapping a nipple between her teeth, before she mouthed her way up and inflicted a bruising love-bite on the tender flesh. Bowsette screamed, rose up, breaking away from Peach's embrace, and came back down like a meteorite. Her last few febrile thrusts sent Peach insensible, and she howled out her bliss, dissolving, scrabbling at Bowsette's back while she moaned away atop her, absorbed by her own orgasm.

After they rested, Peach decided that she needed to remind Bowsette of her place. Stripped of the strap-on, she was made to lie on her back. Peach straddled her chest, rubbing herself, dripping over her tits, then shuffled up until she was over her face. She lowered herself, smothering Bowsette with her crotch, squashing her pussy against her lips. Bowsette's lip ring pressed into her, a little solidity against the softness, and she gazed down into her love's glittering scarlet eyes.

"C'mon," she said. "You know what to do. Are you going to be a good girl?"

"Mmph," Bowsette acquiesced.

Her mouth opened, her tongue came slithering out, and there was that stud, driven deep into Peach's succulence, rolling around under her lips. It clinked as it collided with her clit ring, which Bowsette curled her tongue-tip around and expertly levered away. She wormed her stud under Peach's hood.

Peach screamed, bucking atop Bowsette's face, as the metal glided over the tip of her bud. She forced herself not to pull away, instead grabbing Bowsette's horns, forcing her up against herself. Her legs tightened around Bowsette's head. A desperate whine rose up from below, and Bowsette's licks intensified in an attempt to win her freedom. When she drove her tongue into Peach's cunt, Peach relented, relaxed, and gave her some air.

She sat there, rocking against Bowsette's mouth, letting her tongue thrash away inside her. Each swirl drove her onwards, each swash of that metal lump made her clench and whine, thrilling as it bumped over her inner whorls. Her pussy drooled with its own wetness and Bowsette's saliva, dribbling over Bowsette's face. When she came, it was with a gush of her juices, and Bowsette greedily drank them down while she moaned atop her.

Quickly, Peach climbed off Bowsette's face and scooched down to her waist. She leaned over, grabbing the thick ring that pierced the tip of Bowsette's tail, and pulled it up between Bowsette's legs.

"Ow! Hey, what're you doing now?" Bowsette grumbled, as Peach turned around and curled her tail towards her pussy.

"Tailfuck me for a bit," Peach said. She laid back along Bowsette's body, treating her like a couch, her tits as pillows. "I'll reward you if you do a good job."

Bowsette uttered a growl that suggested she thought she'd already done more than enough, but she kept her tail bent and blindly guided it towards Peach's snatch. She thrust, and the ring popped in, stretching Peach's cunt vertically. She writhed around it; the ring was far cooler and bulkier than the rest of Bowsette's piercings, and it made for a definite impression inside her. It quickly absorbed her body heat, but its solidity was tangible all the way up, as Bowsette drove it further in, spearing Peach on her tail tip.

As before, her spikes stopped her from going any further, but there was more than enough length and girth to keep Peach moaning. She let her legs drape over Bowsette's sides, crossed her arms over her stomach and rested there in the almost literal lap of luxury, letting the muscular rippling of Bowsette's tail flow through her. With her scaly skin rubbing at her walls, and with the ring twisting and turning inside her, it didn't take Peach long before she was nearing another climax, one she hurried along with quick dabs at her clit, jingling her own ring. She cried out, melodically, stiffening against Bowsette, then a delicious relaxation washed over her and her eyes slipped shut. Peach rested against her wife for a while, stroking her hair and murmuring her praise.

Bowsette let her tail slip from Peach’s pussy, and started to rub her shoulders. “If I’m so good, where’s my reward?”

"Alright," Peach said. "I suppose you've earned it."

She rolled over, crawled up Bowsette's body, kissed her. Her hand slipped between them, found Bowsette's mound, and she wriggled her fingers between those fat folds.

"Cum for me, darling. But only when I say."

Bowsette surrendered to Peach's touch, surrendered to her first climax at her hands that night. Their lovemaking devolved from there, becoming messy and chaotic, driven by the needs and urges of one moment to the next. Hierarchy broke down as they lost themselves in one another, and Bowsette would demand that Peach service her as often as the reverse.

They were nearing the limits of their stamina when Peach reasserted herself, and decided to go for one last big finish.

"Kneel," she ordered, "legs spread. That's right."

"What are you planning?" Bowsette asked, as she assumed the position.

Peach seated herself on Bowsette's thigh, facing away from her, pressing her pussy down on the tensed muscle. "I'm going to ride my dragon."

She drove herself down as hard as she could, squeezing her cunt between her pelvis and Bowsette's leg. Her mound moulded itself to the shape of Bowsette's corded sinews, and her clit was squeezed up against its hood, crushed almost painfully against its ring. Peach groaned, and began to ride, smearing a trail of wetness over Bowsette's thigh.

Driving any friction from grinding against Bowsette's sleek skin took some effort, and for the first few thrusts Peach's attention was entirely on her legs and loins, all her energy devoted to holding herself in place. So she didn't notice Bowsette slowly tangling her fingers in her hair, gathering it up into a tangled ponytail, until she gave it a tug and pulled Peach into herself.

"What do you think you're doing?" Peach demanded, trying to replace breathy arousal with stern dominance.

"Reminding you that you're not completely in control," Bowsette said. "Princess."

"That's Queen."

"Sure, Queen. Now enjoy your ride."

"We'll have words about this tomorrow." She couldn't suppress a smile from crossing her face. "But don't stop."

Bowsette laughed, gave Peach's hair another yank. The pain tingled across her scalp, and she yelped, letting it flow into her and mingle with the pleasure.

She rode Bowsette like she was breaking her in, slamming her pussy down near her knee with wet slaps and a bruising jolt. That sent an explosion of bliss through her, jerking her up. She'd drop back down and, aided by Bowsette pulling at her hair, drag herself back up, 'til her arse was flush against Bowsette's midriff. Down again, smack, back up, a literal bump and grind, each repetition adding to her desire. It was gratingly slow, but it kept her going until her desperation got the better of her.

Switching to a simple up and down rubbing, Peach sped up until even her ample wetness couldn't keep her slick enough. The friction rose until it burned, her lips pink and raw against Bowsette's skin. Bowsette kept up that tension on her hair, and dared to sneak a hand round to her tits, digging her claws into them, trapping her nipple between her fingers.

Peach yowled, thrust her hand between Bowsette's legs, found her clit ring and pulled. She bared Bowsette's pearl and attacked it directly, sending her pet into howling convulsions, bucking under Peach, bouncing her on her leg far more powerfully than Peach could have managed on her own. Her own ring got caught up beneath her on her next thrust, drawn between her folds, and as it popped back out it tugged her hood up. Her exposed clitty brushed Bowsette's thigh, and she fell forward, screeching, the agonising ecstasy erupting from her most tender part far fiercer than the pain that flared in her scalp. Gasping, tears in her eyes, she hooked her fingers into Bowsette's cunt, pulled them up, driving into Bowsette's sweet spot. She rode and fingerfucked until that was all she was: heat in her hand, heat in her twat, the pressure from her hair and wherever Bowsette chose to next ply her brutal, loving ministrations.

It was an exhausting way to bring oneself off. But Peach, with every last little bit of stamina available to her, managed it, coming to a sobbing, screaming, scorching climax. She crashed back against Bowsette, knocking them both to the bed, landing atop her solid body with a thump. Bowsette was quivering under her, wailing in chorus; Peach's fingers had gone into a spasming overdrive as she came, forcing Bowsette's own orgasm out of her. She kept her fingers lodged in there, feeling the pulses of Bowsette's cunt around them as her own clenched around nothing. Her walls, straining against themselves, gave her the sweetest ache. Her clit was throbbing, pulled tight and swollen against her ring by its underlying tissues. Bliss overwhelmed her body, swamped her brain, and stayed there until it reached its final, excruciating peak. And only then did it ebb away from her, leaving her woozy, dehydrated and finally, thoroughly satisfied.

She and Bowsette were just two women for a while. Two women who loved each other, more completely than they could ever have imagined. Bowsette was shivering in her aftermath, her sweat cooling across her skin.

"Cold, darling?" Peach asked, and Bowsette nodded. Peach pressed as close to her as she could, wrapped her arms around her. She let a little bit of magic flow through the filter of her sated love, transferring its warmth to Bowsette.

Bowsette rumbled an agreeable growl. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," said Peach. She wanted to say more, but exhaustion was claiming her, and she worried a yawn would make her seem insincere.

It didn't matter. She yawned anyway. "You're my treasure. Mine to keep forever, and I never, never want to lose you."

Possessive words again. But she was possessive. She'd taken Bowsette, claimed her.

"My Queen," Bowsette murmured back. "I'll be yours forever." A smile. "But sometimes I get to be in charge, deal?"

"Just so long as you remember who wears the crown, my Consort. Deal."

"Love you," Bowsette repeated, hugging Peach closer, strong arms and strong legs and strong tail. "My beautiful wife."

Peach kissed her, momentarily, soft lips and soft tongue and soft hands. "Love you, my darling wife. Let's rest now. I'll see you in the morning."

The woman who was once a damsel, chained by her own destiny, now mistress of her fate, ruler of two kingdoms and goddess to the most powerful, headstrong person she'd ever encountered, she let herself drift into sleep. And beside her, the woman who was once a tyrant, trapped by her own will, now happy in her subordinance, a bringer of peace, and the possession of the strongest, most determined person she'd ever known, she did the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Anonymous for this one, I have been wanting to write some Bowsette for far, far too long.
> 
> twitter.com/geistygeist  
> geistygeist.tumblr.com


End file.
